Even Bad Wolves Can be Good
by thisishowyouaxolotl
Summary: Rated M for violence and mild romance. On the day Ember turns sixteen, she goes to her grandmothers house to celebrate, and receives a crimson cloak. On the way home she comes across a strange man, one who isn't afraid of her and much to his dismay- she isn't afraid of him. Even when she finds out he is a werewolf.


**Chapter One:**

**a/n- Sorry it's short but I need to get into it. Will update as soon as humanly possible**

Wind hissed softly over the weeds, my breath came out in clouds, adding to the misty air, a light rain fell. The stag was nuzzling around the base of a crooked birch tree, oblivious to the killer so close to it. Silently, I drew my bow and aimed it at the creature's eye. An arrow through the brain, quick and effective. As the light wind shifted, it caught my scent, but my arrow had been released and it was too late. It pierced its left flank and I was on it in seconds, its eyes widening in terror as I straddled its back and gripped his magnificent antlers. "Don't worry", I breathed, "You are going to a better place" and then I snapped his neck. I hugged him till the body stopped jerking, murmuring words of comfort and prayer, putting him to rest. When I finished, I began the grisly task of gutting and skinning the beast, leaving the entrails, and organs behind. I never ate them. It seemed wrong and it didn't taste good either. I watched as a fox crept up to the creature' remains, 'Eat brother hunter' I thought sadly and melted back into the mist. As if I was never there.

It was an hour's trek back to the farmhouse, and by the time I got back, I was soaked to the skin. I dumped my too small clothes and cloak on the floor in disgust, before curling up, shivering in front of the fire. 'Thank god mum and dad aren't here', I thought, then I'd have to wait for mum to heat up a bath. When I was finally dry and warm, I dressed myself in clothes, that were, like all my clothes, too small. Tomorrow though, was my sixteenth birthday, and mum had promised she would buy me new work clothes, dress cloths and hunting clothes. I think the main reason she got me new clothes was because when you turn sixteen you start courting, as every sixteen year old in the village does. I however, laughed at the thought, it wasn't that I was ugly, or I didn't like boys, because I do. It is more the fact that in spite of being called a great beauty, I scared men. It might be the fact that I hunt for my family instead of my father, or it might my brash, sarcastic attitude, whatever it is, they are always too scared to approach me. Mum was always trying to get me to be more _ladylike_ and whatnot, but I just couldn't be bothered drinking tea and giggling about whether or not a boy was attractive. Only Nanny Judith understood my attitude. Nanny wasn't my real grandmother, but she was the closest I had to one, as the real one disliked me immensely. Mum did _not _approve of Nanny Judith at all, mostly because she thought she was a bad influence. But the biggest reason was that she thought Nanny was a witch, because her house was in the middle of the woods- even deeper than I usually go to hunt; because that deep in, things start hunting _you. _

Despite her age, Nanny is not frail _or _weak. In her youth, when she moved into the woods, she was attacked her very first night. Well let's just say, _that _particular bear made a very warm rug. Even though she killed the beast, she dedicated an entire year to turning her simple cottage into a fortress strong enough to give the biggest grizzly a run for his money. The windows had bars across them, the doors, roof and walls had steel plates reinforcing the thick Lignum Vitae wood that she had imported from South America, and the floors were solid slabs of rock. To top it off she had imported a strange metal tube from china that shot lumps of metal into things- she called it a gun because 'Those bastards are gunna run' she joked. Needless to say, the bears and wolves of the forest soon stopped bothering her house. She promised me that when I turned sixteen she would teach me how to use it, which was why much to my mother's distaste, I was going to Nanny's house tomorrow. I told her it was because Nanny had a present for me, as she would never let me near one of those 'demon sticks'. 'A lot is happening tomorrow', I thought. "Let's hope it doesn't kill me.


End file.
